


what a feeling to be a king beside you, somehow

by theskyfelldown



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Aromantic Character, Aromantic Harry, Aromantic Niall, Best Friends, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Acceptance, pansexual louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskyfelldown/pseuds/theskyfelldown
Summary: Harry has Louis right by his side.





	what a feeling to be a king beside you, somehow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lemon_cakes_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_cakes_tea/gifts).



> **ahhh its finally here!! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing this! i had lots of fun writing this and also had interesting discoveries of my own ace identity! :)  
> **
> 
> **any mistakes you spot are mine!  
> **
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **disclaimer: i do not own 1d. this work is one of pure fiction.  
> **  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/bitterlouistan/)  
> [tumblr](http://lpuist91.tumblr.com/)

Harry wakes up to the Sun in his room.

Harry blinks against the sunlight streaming through the blindfolds, watches as dust motes lazily float in the air. He must have forgotten to close the curtains last night. Perhaps, closing his curtains was the last thing he'd remembered to do in his alcohol-ridden brain. He'd toed off his boots and flung them across the room and promptly fallen face first into his bed. Looking back, Harry reckons he should have drunken a glass of water, or at least brush his teeth. His mouth tastes like something had crawled in overnight and died, settled on his tongue.

Harry hears the knock on his door, before it actually happens. He turns in his bed, his bed sheets rustling around him and weakly murmurs, “Come in,”

“You alright?” Louis asks gently, coming inside Harry’s room, placing a tall glass of chilled water, with beads of condensation sliding down the sides of the glass, on Harry's bed side table. Harry puts out a hand and Louis hands him two Aspirins.

Harry shoots him a grateful smile before he pulls himself up and washes down the tablets with his cold water. Louis stays quiet and grins a little when Harry winces, “Long night, huh?”

“The worst,” Harry shakes his head, curls flopping across his forehead. Louis reaches over and brushes them away, “Remind me to never party with Nick, ever again, will you?”

“That’s what you said last time,”

“Yeah, well, I’m really fucking stupid, aren’t I?”

Louis doesn’t say anything. Instead, furrows his eyebrows and crinkles his nose like he’s thinking.

“Lou,” Harry whines and only feels a bit like a baby when Louis laughs, loud and bright.

“Tell you what, next time you can stay at home with me and watch _Friends_ instead?”

Harry pulls the covers tightly around him, “That does sound appealing. I’m so stupid, Lou, my head _hurts_ ,” His voice drops to a pathetic whine. “It’s like someone’s ramming my head against a wall or summat,”

“Oh you poor, _poor_ thing,” Louis says and gets up, pushing Harry back into bed and pulls Harry’s covers over his entire bed. He leans forward and kisses him on the forehead. “Get some rest, will you? There’s breakfast on the table, heat it if it’s gone cold – I have to go work, now.”

“On a _Saturday_?”

Louis scoffs and flicks Harry’s forehead affectionately, trying hard not to smile when Harry frowns up at him, “Stop pouting, Styles. Some of us have to actually _work_ to pay for things.”

“Hey,” Harry says, indignant, “I work too.”

Louis thinks and raises an eyebrow, “I’m not sure getting paid to do your _homework_ by daddy really is working, love.” Louis says teasingly.

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry grumbles and sinks deeper into his bed. Louis grins and waves his fingers at Harry and closes the door behind him as he leaves. Harry turns in bed and fails trying hard not to smile.

~*~

 

“I just don’t get it.”

“There’s _nothing_ to get!”

“Yeah, well, they were on a _break_ –”

“So, if you and I were together – _hypothetically_ and broke up and you went fucking someone in less than an _hour_ , it’d be okay?!”

“Well, first of all I’d _never_ do that and second of all, if we were on a break then it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Kill him,” Perrie says viciously to Louis and Harry snorts into Louis’ shoulder and Louis laughs, shifting on Harry’s lap to make himself comfortable. Harry squeezes his arms tighter around Louis’ waist and pulls him closer against his front and digs his face into Harry’s neck. Louis smells lovely – like the strawberry shampoo in Harry’s bathroom he likes to steal from Harry and the vanilla scented body wash he’d nicked off Harry’s suitcase when they’d both gone home to Doncaster for Christmas.  He smells like home and everything familiar and it’s just one of Harry’s favourite things about him. “I don’t care what you do – _kill him, now_.”

“Why are you getting so worked up over a TV show, anyway?” Zayn asks and stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Harry admires how Zayn stares unflinchingly back at Perrie’s cold gaze when he’d melt into a pool of warm goo if it was him instead. But it’s Zayn and she’s Perrie – so he understands. “It’s fiction – it’s _television_.”

“Television that’s based off _real life_ ,” Perrie retorts and docks her legs on the coffee table in front of him. She’s got her toes painted bright, neon blue and they shimmer in the afternoon light. TV Rachel’s telling Ross how glad she feels that Ross has finally matured enough and apologised for his mistake. Perrie throws a handful of popcorn on the TV when Ross yells at Rachel that _we were on a break!_ A popcorn flicks at TV Ross’ eye, “Boo!” She yells, “Stupid white man! Shame on you!”

Zayn rolls his eyes and shakes his head to himself. Louis just points and snorts in laughter, “You guys would have made a great couple.”

Perrie stops chewing her popcorn and promptly spits it out back in the bowl and puts the bowl on the coffee table in disgust. She looks at Louis and raises an eyebrow, “What?” She asks flatly, “ _What_ did I ever do to you? Seriously? I’ve been nothing but a good friend to you _all my life_ and this is how you repay me?!”

“Hey, dating me can’t be that bad,” Zayn frowns, like he’s personally offended.

Perrie rolls her eyes, “Perhaps in another alternate universe where I am straight as a _pole_ , maybe.”

Zayn furrows his eyebrows, “So never?”

“Absolutely not.” Perrie scoffs and fixes her hair, bangs brushing across her forehead.  “That’s rich coming from you two, by the way,” She quips, smirking and leans back into the couch. Heavy lead seems to settle at the bottom of Harry’s stomach – he knows what’s coming, what Perrie’s going to say and although he’s had it said to Louis and him an awful lot of times, it didn’t stop him from feeling like absolute shit.

“Uh, what’s rich?” Louis asks, feigning obliviousness.

“Please – like I haven’t seen you and Harry act with each other. You guys are so stupidly obvious.” She continues unmindful and Harry feels his heart rate spike with every word, “Let me tell you, any moment now, you guys are going to get together and I’ll be over here, saying how I knew it from the start.”

Louis freezes for a millisecond in Harry’s arms and Harry feels his own heart beat louder, feels like there’s a frog in his throat, something stuck in his throat, choking back every god damn word he wants to say. He wants to say something, _god,_ fuck, he just wants to say _something_. But he can’t.

“Perrie,” Louis starts and he rarely ever calls her _Perrie_ unless he was serious – it was always _Pezza_ or _Pez._ “You know Harry and I aren’t like that...”

“Well, it’s a matter of time.” Zayn laughs, “You guys are cute together. It’s a matter of time till you guys get together. I can’t wait for it.”

“Zayn –”

“So, Harry, when are you going to pick up the courage to finally ask your boy out?” He’s teasing, _of course,_ he’s teasing but Harry feels his mouth turn bitter, feels his tongue tying around itself, feels like there’s charcoal spread all over the insides of his mouth and – fuck. God. He hates this so much.

“Zayn,” Harry bites his lip, “You know we aren’t like that – you know I’m not looking – I’m not into that? I don’t want that.”

“Hazza, it’s okay to be scared, love. We all are,” Perrie leans over and squeezes Harry’s thigh and all Harry can think is _take your hand off me take your hand off me don’t touch don’t touch me you don’t fucking understand_.

“Would you just fuck off?” Louis hisses, lashing out, like he can’t take it anymore.

Zayn pauses mid way, stops chewing and Perrie freezes, drawing back her arm rapidly. Zayn stares at Louis with wide eyes. “Lou–”

“How many times do we have to tell you guys we aren’t like that?” He asks furiously, “We’re best friends, for fucks sake, you guys – why the fuck is it so hard for you both to comprehend?”

“Hey, so you can joke about us getting together but we can’t joke about you?” Perrie asks incredulously.

“Because that’s _different_.” Louis says frustrated, “It’s different and _you know it_.”

“How?! How the fuck is _that_ different?” Perrie asks, beautiful face drawn in anger and Harry just feels revolted at his own self, feels every fibre of his body turn against him. He’s had it. He’s had enough of this. He’s tired. He’s just so fucking tired, is the thing. “You guys are best friends and so are we? How is that any different?”

Louis’ still in Harry’s arms, all tense and taut and Harry hates that he’s putting him through this because Louis doesn’t have to – he doesn’t have to explain for Harry or defend him every time this happens because Harry struggles with explaining himself, struggles with putting what he feels into words. He’s got an idea of what he feels like in his head but it scares him – it terrifies him because it makes so much sense.

Zayn looks alarmed. He’s never seen Louis like this, blue eyes cutting sharp and body taught and drawn like he’s ready to pounce at anyone who ever says anything against Harry or what he feels,  “We’re sorry, Lou –”

Louis takes a deep breath and shakes his head to himself, calming himself down. Harry squeezes his waist and Harry feels Louis relax, “It’s fine –” He takes another deep breath and shakes his head, “It really is. It – could we change the topic now, please?”

Perrie and Zayn stare at Louis and Harry, eyes darting, tensed. It’s obvious Louis and Harry are upset but they don’t seem to understand _why_. “Um, we could order some takeaway?” Perrie suggests. “I’m hungry – aren’t you lot? Could eat a horse right now.”

“Yeah,” Louis says and turns in Harry’s lap so they’re face to face and digs his chin into the nape of Harry’s neck and Harry holds him. They do this when they’re upset or tired – when they need each other, when it’s a long day from work or university or days when they just desperately need to hold someone.

Perrie raises an eyebrow but says nothing. In a way Harry understands where she’s coming at – why people might think they were an item of their own but Harry didn’t want that from Louis. Yes, he loved him in a different way than he loved others but he didn’t want the – _amorous_ side of a relationship. It wasn’t like he disliked romance – he was a romanticist at his own heart and it made him happy seeing people love – it was just that, he didn’t want any of his own.

“I’ll just call the pizza place,” Perrie says, taking her eyes off them and pulling out her phone, “Three large pepperoni and its all on me, alright?” She looks at Harry, raising her eyebrows and Harry knew it was her way of saying sorry.

“Right, thanks,” Harry says and smiles a little and only feels a small amount of relief when she smiles back.

 

~*~

 

Louis closes the door and turns to look at Harry.

The apartment’s gone quiet now. The TV shut off, Perrie and Zayn no longer there, the curtains drawn close, empty pizza boxes piled on top of the kitchen counter, four glasses in the sink, an open wine bottle on the coffee table. Louis smiles at Harry, small, soft and tired and Harry smiles back, praying it comes off right but Louis walks closer and presses a finger between his eyebrows and cocks his head.

“You know – you get a V here when you frown,”

Harry crinkles his nose, “I’m not frowning.” He says and his eyes cross when he looks at Louis’ finger.

Louis pulls his hand back and gives him a flat look before he stalks into the kitchen.

Louis pulls out there worn out kettle from a kitchen cupboard and starts filling it under the tap. He doesn’t initiate conversation between them and Harry thinks he knows why. “You don’t have – are you mad at me?” Harry asks, softly when Louis wordlessly puts the kettle on the stove and switches on the flame.

Louis straightens his back but still doesn’t turn to Harry, “Of course not, H,” He says softly. He still doesn’t look at Harry, “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not looking at me.” Harry says and it comes out dejected – like a kicked puppy. And he hates this. He knows by tomorrow morning, this night would be forgotten like it was always done. Brushed under the carpet and never spoken about but Harry felt like he had enough. He had to say it.

“Does it bother you?” He asks, “Does – like Perrie and Zayn assuming we’re in a relationship upset you?”

“Of course not!” Louis whirls to face Harry, “God – Harry, you’re my _best friend_.” He says, walking to Harry and circles his fingers over Harry’s wrist. He barely reaches his shoulders so Harry has to slouch to look at him.  “Listen, I love you just the way you are, okay?” Louis shakes his hands a little, “You’re my best friend – you’re the most important person in my life and I love us just the way we are, alright?”

“I know,” Harry swallows a little, “I know, god. But Perrie and Zayn and the others – they think –”

“I don’t care what they think.” Louis says, gaze unwavering. “I don’t give a fuck about what they think, Harry.”

“You have to. They’re your friends.”

“And you’re the most important one I have.” Louis says, voice fierce.

Harry drops his gaze. “Alright, okay.”

 “Let’s just sleep, alright?” Louis says, voice kind and holds Harry’s elbow, “It’s been a long day and you’re tired. I’ll make you some tea, go to your room, love.”

“Yeah.” Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead and walks into his room without looking back at Louis. “Good night, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t say anything but it’s when Harry closes the door does he say _good night_ and Harry tries hard not to crumple against the wood.

 

~*~

 

Niall comes over the next day with a couple of beers.

“How are yall doing?” He hollers, inviting himself in Louis and Harry’s apartment. Harry looks up from his laptop and smiles, watches as Niall walks into the kitchen and plants a wet kiss on Louis’ cheek. Louis makes an expression of disgust at Harry and wipes his cheek against his shirt.

“Horan, don’t you kiss me like that, ever again.” Louis says, smacking him across his head with a dish towel. Niall holds his hands out and laughs, loud and bright before he falls into the sofa next to Harry.

“What’s up?” He peers at Harry’s laptop and Harry tries to shield it away from his eyes, “What are you doing on your laptop on a Sunday morning?”

“Coursework,” Harry rolls his eyes, “Not all of us have careers already waiting for us after university, you know.”

“See, if you wanted a job from my dad, all you had to do was say, Harry,” Niall grins.

“I’m not sure a music major would fit into a construction company.”

“Well, that’s a load of bullocks! You need music everywhere!”

“Horan,” Harry groans and Niall laughs again, loud and bright, laughter the equivalent of a ray of sun light. Harry loves him a lot – it’s hard not to like someone like Niall, even harder not to fall for his charm. _The Irish Charm,_ Niall had dubbed it the first time they’d met at the bar close to campus. He’d swung and took a sip of his Guinness and Harry could only stare in wonder, thinking how Niall must have had a stomach of steel to even stomach anything.

Of course that’s when Niall had leaned forward and promptly vomited all over Harry’s shoes.

They’ve been the best of friends, ever since.

“No, seriously, but how are you?” Niall asks. He stares at Harry’s face, long enough for Harry to shift in discomfort, “You look tired,”

“Yeah, well, I kind of am,” Harry laughs and runs a hand through his hair, tugs at his curls hard enough to hurt a little. “I’ve been – I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Yeah?” Niall asks, opening a bottle of beer and handing it over to Harry. Harry rolls his eyes fondly and closes the lid of his laptop, placing his Mac over the coffee table. “Ask away, my friend.”

“How did you know you were aro?” Harry asks abruptly.

Niall takes a sip and furrows his eyebrows and Harry thanks the universe for making Niall just the way he is, without wondering why Harry was even asking him about it, “Just knew it, I guess.” He answers, shrugging.

“You’re not being helpful.”

“Fuck, sorry, wait.” Niall bites his lip, “Uhm, okay, well, see. Being aro is different for everyone, alright? There isn’t one way to be aro. I’m aro because I don’t feel any romantic attraction to anybody. I don’t want a special someone and that’s it.”

“That sounds a bit lonely, don’t you think?” Harry asks nervously but Niall just laughs. Harry hears Louis flit across the kitchen, hears as he hums and opens the kitchen cupboards and closes them.

“Harry, being aromantic just means you don’t want to have a romantic partner. It doesn’t stop you from loving your friends and family.” He takes a sip of his beer and Harry almost forgets he’s holding one and takes a sip as well, “There’s so many types of love. A romantic love is just one of them. It doesn’t stop you from spreading love or being loved – it just means you don’t want a romantic love of your own.”

“Right,” Harry’s head feels like it’s cleared up a little but there’s still mist, “What about like – I don’t know – is it possible for someone to realize they’re aro after a long time?”

“Harry, sexuality and romantic orientations don’t have a specific time to be discovered,” Niall says softly. “You could find out you’re gay when you’re fifty or when you’re five. You could find out whether you’re aro the same way too. It doesn’t make your ace identity any less valid.”

“Could you – be in a relationship if you’re aro?”

“Of course, Haz, there’s queerplatonic relationships and platonic relationships, too.”

Harry takes a deep breath, “I think I’m aro.” It feels nice to put it all out in the air, feels like Atlas when the world’s taken off his shoulders.

“Yeah?” Niall asks gently.

“Yeah,” Harry nods.

“Congratulations, mate.” He claps Harry’s shoulder and beer sloshes out of his bottle, “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m about to throw up all over you?” Niall chuckles and reaches over to squeeze Harry’s thigh.

“Am I the only one you’ve come out to?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods and he hears Louis’ hums get louder, “Yeah – not yet to Louis –”

“Of course,” Niall says immediately. “My lips are sealed.”

“I just – I was thinking about this for some time, you know? I just want – I just want to clear it all out and finally come out – like I didn’t understand I still don’t but it’s making sense.”

“You can ask me anything and I’ll help you as much as you want to, alright?”

Harry smiles, “You’re a good friend, Ni. Thank you.”

Niall grins and squeezes Harry’s shoulder, “None of that. That’s what friends are there for, right?”

 

~*~

“No, mum, absolutely not, _no_ , no, listen up – what! No way! When? No, she didn’t tell me. Oh god, I’m going to kill her – mum she’s got a boyfriend!” Louis grins at Harry when he comes into his room. Harry makes a motion pointing out of Louis’ door that he’d come out later when Louis frowns at him and pats at the space next to him on the bed instead. Harry sits next to him and watches as Louis babbles away on the phone with his mother.

“Yeah, I know – yeah, I get it, still doesn’t justify it not saying to her own _brother_ , mum. Oh god, I’m going to give her shit for it when I meet her for lunch next week – she deserves – I’m her big brother. How could you keep that away from your _big brother_?” Louis bites his lip and Harry hears Jay’s tinny voice, “Okay – okay – what?” He shoots Harry a look, “No, yeah, he’s fine, he’s doing great –” His face falls but he quickly masks it with a smile but it’s too late Harry’s seen it and he knows why. “Yeah – no, I’m not – no – mom, I’m fine. You’re coming up with Lottie to help her at her place, aren’t you? We’ll talk then, promise – we’ll meet up – yeah. Okay. I love you, tell the babies I said hi and the girls, too. Tell them to stop giving you a hard time, alright? Yeah. Okay. Love you. Bye.”

Louis cuts the line and Harry watches until the screen fades into black. Louis’ lock screen is a selfie of them – at a stupid fraternity party they’d gone to on their first weeks of university. Harry’s sticking out his tongue and Louis’ got his eyes crossed. There had been booze and glitter and glow-in-the-dark face paint and stupid mistakes.

“What’d she say?”

Louis’ head shoots up, “Oh – nothing – it’s nothing,” He chuckles a bit, “She wanted to know how you’re doing and –”

“Whether we’re together?” Harry asks and presses his lips against each other when the words shoot out of his mouth. Fuck.

Louis’ face falls, “Harry – I swear I –”

“Lou, don’t get upset, it’s alright,” Harry takes Louis’ hand in his and Louis doesn’t look up at him, stares at their entwined fingers instead. It hurts a little. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I could tell her to fuck off, Harry, but she’s my mum. I’ve tried explaining – I’m sorry.”

Harry swallows down the lump in his throat, “Look – it doesn’t matter, alright? I love you, okay?”

“Oh, I know.” Louis smiles, watery and leans forward to kiss Harry on the cheek. “I love you too.” Harry opens his mouth to say something but instead of words, he lets out a dry sob.

Louis pulls back alarmed, “Harry – oh god – why are you crying –”

Harry shakes his head to himself and tears springing into his eyes, blurring his vision of Louis. He’s had it and he doesn’t know why he’s upset, why he’s crying, why Louis’ looking at him like that but he’s just so very tired. He needs to say it.

“I’m sorry – I’m so fucking sorry –” He chokes out.

“What? Why are you sorry – Harry – don’t cry –”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry –” Harry repeats and he shakes his head. He feels like he’s hyperventilating – breaths coming out too fast.

“Harry – breathe with me – in – out – in and out -- out – alright – there we go.” Louis brushes his hair across and Harry feels so stupidly pathetic and embarrassed.

“Harry – why are you sorry?” Louis asks gently but Harry can hear the hysteria behind it, “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I’m –” He squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m aro, Lou.”

“What?”

“I’m aromantic – I don’t – I don’t feel any romantic attraction and I’m so sorry --”

“Don’t you _dare_ apologise.” Louis says, voice fierce, “Don’t you dare. H, look at me, _look_ at me –” He holds Harry’s face in his hands and Harry stares into his blue eyes fierce, “Don’t you dare apologise for this, alright?”

“I’m sorry –” Harry says and shakes his head helplessly, “I just feel like I’m disappointing you –”

“Harry – _God_ , you’ve never disappointed me, alright? I can’t tell you – I can’t tell you how _proud_ I am of you, how happy you make me –” He shakes his head, “You’re the best person I know, you’ve got a heart full of love and you’re so fucking amazing and I’m happy just the way you are, alright?”

“You’re not – disappointed?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I am,” And Harry’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach, “I’m disappointed that you would even _think_ I’d never accept you, Harry.” He says, hurt. “You know you matter so much to me, right?”

“I do,” Harry says, earnest and quiet, “I’m sorry – I was just scared – you matter a lot to me, alright? I can’t bear the thought of ever loosing you,”

“It’s okay. You’ll never lose me, Harry.” Louis shakes his head and stares at Harry’s hands before looking up and smiles, like the fucking sun with tears in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you,”

“Okay – you can stop it now,” Harry says, embarrassed and feels warm and happy – and it’s all because of Louis.

“But I am,” Louis insists, “I am so proud of you, just so you know.”

“Right, well,” He pulls Louis into a hug and presses his face into the nape of Louis’ neck and Louis draws him closer, “I’m proud of you too,”

 

~*~

 

When Harry wakes up the next day, it’s early and Louis’ on the phone, smoking a cigarette next to Harry’s open window.

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly and turns around to check whether Harry’s sleeping. Harry squints his eyes and slows his breathing. “Yeah, he’s alright. Uh huh – mom, please.” Louis huffs frustrated. “I’m happy.” His voice drops into a soft murmur, “Yeah – Harry’s good, yeah, he makes me so happy. No – no that doesn’t matter, does it? I have him. Yeah. Uh huh. Okay, I promise I’ll drag him along with us for lunch. Promise. Alright – okay. Okay. Yeah – thanks for talking to me, mum. Yeah. I know. I love you so much. Yeah, I know it will. I’m happy, mom. I love you.”

Harry watches through squinted eyes as Louis fiddles with his phone and taps away his cigarette out of the open window and glances at Harry’s sleeping figure with a smile on his face.

Harry shifts and presses his face harder into his pillow and tries hard not to smile.

He fails.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/aiioutshirt/) [tumblr](thebloodychambrs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
